


god and his creations

by cyrusbarrone



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Dream Pack, Dreams, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrusbarrone/pseuds/cyrusbarrone
Summary: Proko does not believe in God.





	god and his creations

**Author's Note:**

> uuuuuh i wrote this ages ago and finished it up toay, im happy with the first half but i wanted to post something bc im stuck in allllll my writing rn (:

Kavinsky fell backwards into the dirt and stayed there. The corner of his mouth was curled into a grin; teeth sharp and stained; promising danger.

“Get up,” Proko sneered at him.

Kavinsky tilted his head and his white sunglasses dropped to the tip of his nose. “’Get up, K!’” he mimicked in a voice eerily similar to Proko’s. “’You’re hurting my feelings!’”

Proko kicked at the ground. Dirt clouded in the air and into Kavinsky’s face; his white t-shirt immediately stained and if not for the sunglasses he wore he might have flinched. His grin merely grew in size at Proko’s anger. He lifted a hand and wiped over his mouth where snotty blood had collected and flicked the remnants into the dirt beside him. 

“What, what Proko, you’re fucking surprised? You’re hurt?” Kavinsky baited, lazing now in the dirt. 

“Fuck off, K! Get up,” Proko demanded. 

Kavinsky’s head dropped further against his shoulder, as though weighted, drawn by gravity and the forces of condescension. “Aw, come on now, baby,” he crooned. “You know by now that’s not how this works, don’t you?” 

In a second Kavinsky was up and his hand was neatly tucked around Prokopenko’s throat. “C’mon, Proko, baby,” he continued, and pushed Proko up against the side of the Evo. Its side was wrecked from chicken with the RX-7, leaving the knife insignia crumpled and misshapen. He pushed his thigh between Proko’s and tilted his chin up. “You don’t fucking talk to me like that, Proko. I’m-“ he punctuated the next words with the tightening of his fingers and the press of his thigh –“your God, P.”

Proko tightened his jaw. His face was darkening in colour but he made no move to display his discomfort. “I don’t believe in God.”

Kavinsky cackled. “That’s sweet, Proko; you’re really using that anarchist trait I built in you, ‘m proud, baby.” He dropped Proko’s throat and stepped backwards, he was slouched into himself, but viciousness crawled his frame. Blood thickened at his nostrils and trickled down over his lips. 

“Why?” Proko asked. He pushed himself up straight and tried to control the anger twitching his fingers. 

“To see if I could,” K said. “Could make so many of you, baby, as many as I want, you know that? Easy. Got a Proko blueprint now, don’t I?”

Proko spat at his feet and Kavinsky cackled; his eyes wild behind his sunglasses. Absently he stuck a finger in his mouth and rubbed at his gums before wiping his spit into his jeans. Proko slid down the panel of the Evo and let his head drop against the crumpled metal; his fingers shook as he lit a cigarette. It’d been Jiang that had told him; that K had dreamt him, and wasn’t that a thing? Proko had thought K might have denied it, but he hadn’t. Didn’t even try. 

“The first Proko must have been special to you,” Proko said, flicking his cigarette butt. He lit another. “For you to make again.”

“You’re not a replacement, baby,” K responded, now sat in the dirt too. He was flicking his own lighter; it glowed pink. His expression had gone blank. “You’re an original Kavinsky piece. Dream boy, hm?”

He stared at his lighter. Proko did not believe him.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading pls tell me what u think !! im at ivarrboneless on tumblr xx


End file.
